


through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning

by drashian



Series: the key to every opening [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Genderqueer Character, Human Castiel, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drashian/pseuds/drashian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he had an ounce of faith, everything would be easier. But that's half the appeal because Dean's always been of the opinion that he should fight bitterly or else it (his name, his family, his angel) wasn't worth it.</p>
<p>Now, though, now was the time to enjoy what he'd won.</p>
            </blockquote>





	through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't fucking stay away. It's a million times fluffier than the first one and I'm not ashamed.
> 
> Slightly AU in that human!Castiel is around in the bunker significantly more and goes on hunts with them sometimes... maybe a non-Gadreel universe? I actually don't care how you interpret it.
> 
> There's also a not-so-subtle implication of Benny/Dean, but nothing so strong I felt it deserved to be tagged.
> 
> This fic follows about season 4 to season 9 (or, like, halfway through it since it's obviously not done at the time of writing).
> 
> (Title is from [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=125j6-Gt67k).)

The radio went fuzzy so Dean knew to glance over at the angel who had arrived in his passenger seat. “Do you just have an electromagnetic field surrounding you or can you stop doing that?” he asked. Cas looked puzzled.

“I don’t know how to turn it off,” he said, looking at his torso like somewhere on the tan trench coat he would find the answer to making his angel interference go down. Dean was reluctant to even let him in his car at all considering how many times Castiel’s mere presence would fry electrical systems.

They sat in silence for a while. Dean was idly driving around the small town they were stopped in, unable to sleep. The streets were empty and glistening with recent rainfall.

“What’s up, Cas?” he said finally, because the weird silence was too much for him and he honestly had no idea why an angel would be in his passenger’s seat.

“I was unoccupied and watching you and you seemed distressed.”

“Okay, first of all, watching me? Without telling me? That’s kind of. Weird. And also, I’m not distressed.”

Castiel smiled innocently. “I watch you often, Dean. There is not much else to do sometimes and I have spent most of my life watching the Earth.”

Dean didn’t reply but made a face and his cheeks reddened a bit against his will.

“And you have been driving the same few roads for hours now. You only do that when you’re upset about something.”

He could be honest and say that he couldn’t sleep because he had been thinking about how sometimes when Cas would show up or do things or stand so close to him his heart would beat a little bit too fast, and also he was worried about Sam because, y’know, demon blood, and he was generally kind of upset because all his friends were dead or dying, and sometimes he would remember everything all at once in the middle of the night and want to run and keep running until no one else could get hurt by touching him.

“I think I’m cursed,” he said, and he hadn’t really meant to say that but Cas made him want to be honest. And Castiel’s face of open curiosity, of non-judgement, compelled him and for once, he actually told the truth. With unsure words, he explained how he felt like a deer in headlights half the time. Aching to run but frozen in place, about to hurt or be hurt. He tried to explain about Sam, slipped in a few words about Dad, ended up ruminating on his death curse.

And when it was over he was parked in a hotel parking lot with the streetlights reflecting on the dark world around him as shining, strangely beautiful orbs.

“Plus, like, I’m still relatively new to this whole angel thing and God, and all this, and it’s really weird and there’s you and you make me feel really stupid and really amazing at the same time and—“ He shut up.

Castiel touched his arm. “You are the most important man to have been born in a very, very long time,” he said quietly, “and you have no idea to what depths that goes. You will get through this and more.”’

Dean’s tongue was dry. “I don’t feel very important. I feel like you’ve all chosen the wrong guy.”

“We have,” Castiel said, touching Dean’s cheek. “I have.” Dean didn’t break eye contact, no matter how much was rushing around inside him, making him want to scream and run and cry and laugh and it was bubbling up until he realized he was bright red and grinning and barely half an inch from kissing Castiel. So he did.

The night air was quiet except the faraway freeway and the soft rustle of clothes as they parted.

“Are angels even allowed to do that?” Dean said, ignoring every other question his mind was coming up with.

“Technically, no, I don’t think so.” Castiel’s hands were still on his cheek and his shoulder. “I haven’t exactly been the most loyal lately, though.”

They kissed again and Dean had to pull away after a few seconds to point out to Cas how kissing _actually worked_ because even though he was enthusiastic, Castiel had clearly never put much thought into the act. Dean promised he would let Cas practice on him in his flirtiest voice, which was totally lost on the angel.

Castiel pulled back suddenly, that look in his eyes that said angels were talking to him. “I have to go,” he said suddenly, looking immensely sorry and in a second he was gone. The streetlight above the Impala blew out as he left.

Dean cursed and hoped he hadn’t broken anything in the car as he started it to drive home, completely unprepared to sleep.

\- - -

Sometimes Castiel would show up with his pockets stuffed full of flowers and grass and Dean would chide him for being weird and angelic and kind of girly but Castiel would smile at him with that weird face and keep on with his business like he hadn’t clearly been picking wildflowers right before he came. They smelled nice, Dean realized, and then chided himself for being weird and sometimes kind of girly, too.

\- - -

“Angels don’t have genders, Dean,” Castiel said for not the first time as Dean scowled.

“I know, okay? I know. I get it. But the thing is I really don’t. Because I’m human and I hold my gender pretty tightly for a lot of reasons.”

“I don’t understand why. Gender is, like so many things, only a construct of culture and language, not some absolute truth that you must cling to.”

Dean nearly punched him. “Because it’s fucking important to me.” He turned around, clearly done but not able to storm away because it was Cas who was intruding on his motel room, not the other way around.

Castiel was quiet and Dean turned, nearly expecting him to be gone. Instead, he looked like he’d been kicked in the ribs but was also pondering a very difficult math equation.

“If it’s so important to you, it can be important to me,” he said quietly, but then made eye contact. “But please, understand that I don’t understand, at least not in relation to myself. I am not a man, despite this vessel. I hope you can sympathize.”

Dean grit his teeth, nearly lecturing Cas on how he didn’t see himself as a soul inside a vessel but a whole creation, but decided that he looked hurt enough already and kissing his forehead was a better route.

\- - -

Benny, beyond being queerer than a three dollar bill himself judging from how he talked about and looked at Dean, didn’t bat an eye when Dean’s shirt was shredded off of him by a werewolf and he was suddenly mostly naked and preparing to murder Benny (in an extremely literal sense) if things went south. But Benny just made a face at the remains of Dean’s shirt and binder and offered his jacket until they could find something suitable and, preferably, not too bloodstained to replace it.

As they washed their faces of the dried blood a couple hours later, Benny looked at Dean a moment and said, “You don’t want to talk about it.”

“Nope,” Dean said, grinding his teeth. “And I’d appreciate if everything continued as usual.”

Benny sighed and turned away. “Whatever you say, brother.”

\- - -

“Truth is, I do not like this beard,” Castiel whispered in his ear as they curled up next to each other but not quite touching under the false protection of a broad tree.

“Why?” Dean whispered back, brushing it with his fingers.

“I feel it makes me look too much of a man. And yes, before you say it, I am aware that I inhabit the body of one, but it’s more than I would like.” Castiel looked embarrassed, kind of, his face illuminated by the constant dull light of a nonexistent moon.

Dean nodded slowly. He remembered the flowers and the quiet words Cas sometimes said about angels and feeling very strange being treated as a human and as invariably male and it still didn’t make sense to him but in so many ways he knew just how it was to be not in your own skin. So he nodded and kissed Cas silently and said, “It tickles my lips. I’ll be happy when you shave it.”

And Castiel smiled because he knew what Dean meant.

\- - -

Eventually, Castiel picked up the knack of having more than one set of clothes and soon Dean was regretting teaching him this because he was as likely to be wearing Dean’s clothes, which didn’t quite fit across his skinny chest, as he was to have on a delicate pink sweater and pale jeans. Charlie had declared that outfit the cutest thing she’d ever seen so Cas had bought it with his crumpled dollars earned from his minimum wage job.

Dean wanted to scold Cas for being so strange, for curling up in his bed wearing a gold and red embroidered sweater and Dean’s leather coat, but he didn’t. He was actually kind of jealous—and he would never admit that to anyone, so don’t repeat it.

\- - -

They were both soaked in blood and not a little bit of ectoplasm and Cas looked so fucking lost, like he had never lost a set of clothes and his dignity to a pissed off teenage ghost before. He probably hadn’t. But Dean forced them both to take off their filthy boots by the bunker door because otherwise Sam would throw a tantrum and with minimal floor dirtying (he was seriously a mess and Cas was _dripping_ for God’s sakes) he pulled Cas by the wrist to the shower.

He didn’t really consider that they’d never showered together before, he just knew neither one of them could stand to be dirty one second longer. Castiel took his sweet time pulling off his clothes. He’d been human for months. He should really know how to do buttons by now.

Dean was already almost done unwrapping his chest when Cas looked up from shedding his pants and boxers.

He cocked his head. “I thought you didn’t use those any more.”

Dean closed his eyes, praying to—well, someone, something—to give him strength because it seemed like every time the shirt came off someone was scrutinizing him. “Binder got shredded a couple weeks ago and I only ordered a replacement a few days ago. You and Sam need to get off my case.” He didn’t mention how he’d only recently stopped double (sometimes triple) layering binders and wide bandages out of a constant paranoia that nothing would be enough. A familiar wistful thought of surgery crossed his mind, then thoughts of thousands of dollars and months of recovery. Not in this lifetime.

Castiel nodded slowly. His vessel had no such issues.

Dean rolled his eyes and got into the shower, the water steaming and hard on his aching chest caked in blood. The floor immediately turned black and red and the water at his feet was thick.

Cas followed him shortly after, both of them a little awkwardly trying to accommodate the other in the limited shower space. Dean brushed a hand up Castiel’s side, then kissed a clean patch on his cheek.

Finally, showering, something Dean actively enjoyed. Showers were probably the best part of the day. He lathered up a washcloth with plenty of soap and started to scrub his own torso, the cloth instantly stained red, and then wrapped his arms around Cas and washed the other’s back. Castiel was smiling, practically humming with pleasure. Dean had to admit, he wasn’t usually one for the overwhelmingly domestic, but there was something deeply satisfying about this scene. Plus, it was pretty fucking hot.

Castiel grabbed his green and pink bottle and scrubbed shampoo into his hair. The shower was flooded with fruity and floral artificial scent. Dean wanted to make fun of Cas so badly but, to be honest, it smelled really good.

He rubbed his own face clean, then Cas’s, so he could kiss him without getting smears of ectoplasm on his lips. Their bodies slid together in the soapy water, locking together naturally.

Dean worked his fingers through Castiel’s thick hair, rinsing the shampoo out, and thought, _this is the closest thing I’ve ever had to home._

\- - -

“When’s the wedding?” Sam said at the look on Dean’s face while he recounted the vampire nest he and Cas had cleared out. Sam jabbed his fingers into Dean’s side and it annoyed him for the obvious reasons but it also made him sad because how many times had Bobby asked him the same thing? He had known, ever since that first night they met Cas.

“Never. For like, a million reasons.”

“Wait, is gay interspecies marriage legal in Kansas?”

Dean smacked Sam’s head and Sam laughed, rubbing the point of impact.

He looked at the pale blue skies above him and the expanse of flat soybean fields to either side and thought no, no he could never settle down. Not even for something as precious as the once-angel sleeping in his back seat. He was even drooling a bit. Dean smiled fondly.

It was a point of pride that he could fit everything that mattered, including people, into his car and go at a moment’s notice. And there were still so many things to hunt and places to see.

\- - -

Dean never told Sam because it would be so, so fucking embarrassing, but his real favorite part of having a home was that Cas could stay the night. And, even though Cas was all Grace-d up again, he was a funny mix of angel and human charm. It fit right in the bunker’s strange blend of modern Winchester mess and antique organization.

Tracing his fingers across Dean’s naked chest, Cas smiled and his hair smelled like floral shampoo and he did little things now, like shower and lay in bed, and even though he couldn’t physically sleep, he understood the practice and didn’t begrudge Dean when he did it. He often lay beside him, breathing steadily, and Dean was no longer creeped out by being watched constantly by him. It was a blessing now.

“You are so beautifully made,” Cas said, and weird phrases like that always pulled Dean out of the fantasy that Castiel was anything but an otherworldly visitor. A welcome one who was around more or less permanently now, but still.

“Uh, thanks? I think?”

“You have nearly nothing but distaste for your body, which I understand, but I don’t agree. It’s a good vessel for a soul such as yours.”

“What kind of soul is that?” Dean prodded, because he liked it when Cas talked about souls, especially his.

“A bright one. A burning warrior’s soul, one strong beyond measure. A cosmically important soul. And a most absolutely loved one.”

It had been how many years and they still dodged around saying “love”, still keeping away from that kind of commitment even though Dean felt somewhere deep inside that his life and Castiel’s life were meant to come together. Their existences were meant to mingle.

Dean smiled and brushed his fingers through Cas’s hair. “I love you too,” he said, one of only a handful of times he’d dare voice it, and his stomach jumped and his heart quickened but he knew, he knew that it was requited and had been for probably all of the time they’d known each other.

“I know.” Castiel kissed his sternum, his mouth, his forehead. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think that, while the first part of this series was very much about Dean and Bobby and masculinity, this one is more about Dean and Cas and femininity. The next part I have planned focuses on Dean and Charlie, so get pumped.


End file.
